


Nightmares

by KateKintail



Series: Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card Round Eight [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: Every night, Remus woke up around three in the morning to a sound of whimpering and howling so terrible it made him run cold with shivers and goosebumps even though his bedroom was hot and stuffy on a summer night.





	Nightmares

Remus had heard it said that dogs liked to have a daily routine. The same, it seemed, applied to ex-professors and escaped convicts laying low. Each day started the same—at the same time, with the same meal, in the same company. When Remus found himself in the habit of turning to the obituaries over toast and marmalade, that's when he knew war really was starting again. Every day he and Sirius corresponded with the Order or Dumbledore or both. Every day they gardened (Sirius loved the fresh air) and read (thanks to an expanding charm, Remus' small cabin still boasted a not insignificant collection of books) and made love (sometimes more than once a day and sometimes while also gardening or reading). During dinner each night, they got into an argument. In the end, Sirius ended up sleeping curled on the couch and Remus went to bed alone. 

That's how it was every night. And every night, Remus woke up around three in the morning to a sound of whimpering and howling so terrible it made him run cold with shivers and goosebumps even though his bedroom was hot and stuffy on a summer night. Bleary-eyed and uncoordinated with fatigue, Remus would stumble out of his bedroom to the couch in the living room. He would lean against the low back and reach over, petting the black dog's head until it stopped thrashing and shaking, until it stopped whimpering and whining, until Sirius had slipped back into a restful sleep. Sometimes it took mere minutes. Other nights it took nearly an hour. No matter how long it took, Remus would keep petting and, then, fold himself onto the floor beside the couch to nod off a little as he waited, listening. 

Some nights, the nightmare would come back again. One night, it came back four times. Remus slept, leaning against the couch, waiting to chase the nightmares away again until he felt the light of dawn warm his cheek. Then he would head back to his bedroom to get dressed for the day. 

He didn't tell Sirius about hearing the nightmares. He didn't tell Sirius about standing watch over him half the night. And he didn't tell Sirius why he was so tired during the day. 

Until the day he did. 

They were having another argument, this time about Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius wanted to offer it to Dumbledore for Order headquarters and Remus wanted to preserve Sirius' sanity and keep him as far away from there as possible. 

“I'm hiding anyway. It's the same hiding there as here.” 

“It's not the same at all. You grew up in that house. You hate that house. You're talking about being trapped in that house.”

“But I won't be trapped there alone.”

Remus' hand tightened around the handle of his spoon. “You're not alone here.”

Sirius sighed. “That's not what I meant, and you know it.” He reached out to take Remus' hand, but Remus dropped his spoon into his bowl of soup, making Sirius freeze in place. 

The splash sent droplets all over the tablecloth and Remus' t-shirt. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he stared fixedly at Sirius.

Sirius pulled his hand back. “I just mean that there will be room for the whole Order, for meetings. And Harry can visit... maybe even stay. And you can, too, of course.”

“Oh, thanks so much. I'm sure your parents would have loved having a half-blood werewolf making love to their only surviving heir under their roof.”

“All the more reason!” 

Remus wasn't even sure he'd be able to perform in a place like that, but he wasn't about to bring that into the argument. “To make their ghosts more angry?”

“They aren't ghosts.”

“With all the memories of what happened to you in that house, there might as well be.”

“Those can't hurt me.” 

Remus bit his tongue. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't allow himself to lose control and say it. 

“Besides,” Sirius said, looking around the parts of the small cabin he could see from his chair, his gaze falling on the couch. “A change of scenery might be good.”

Remus stared at his soup, not the least bit hungry any more. In fact, his stomach turned at the mere idea of taking another bite. “And here I've been, stupidly thinking you were here because you wanted to be here, not just because Dumbledore sent you. If you want to go that badly, Sirius, maybe you should just leave.” The words hurt as though they burned in his mouth on the way out. Or perhaps that was just the soup trying to come back up again. His eyes burned, too, with hot tears he refused to let Sirius see. He kept his head down. 

“That's not what I meant...” Instead of sounding apologetic or kind, Sirius sounded angry at being misunderstood. 

And it was this, perhaps, Sirius being mad at him instead of thinking of Remus' feelings, that made Remus finally blurt out. “Just don't think staying there will drive your nightmares away.” 

Sirius froze again. He didn't move. He didn't speak. He didn't lash out with more anger, though, which was perhaps an improvement. So Remus risked lifting his gaze to catch a quick glimpse of the man. 

The hollow eyes and gaunt face that had come from two years on the run, living in forests and caves, now sported an utterly shocked expression. 

Remus didn't need it to know he'd gone too far, but now he felt terrible. Sirius couldn't help his nightmares. Remus hadn't even been sure he remembered them. But, obviously, he did. And, obviously, they were a bigger deal than even Remus had thought. “Look, with all the shit you've been through, it's only natural you'd have nightmares. It's not your fault.” 

Sirius's voice was softer than a whisper. If Remus hadn't been staring at his mouth, he might not have even have caught some of the words. “How did you find out?”

“You've been crying out every night since you got here.”

Sirius rubbed a fist roughly at one eye then the other. “I thought... sleeping in dog form would keep me from doing that. In Azkaban, the dementors didn't affect me as badly when I was a dog.” He rubbed at his eyes again and swore. “I didn't want you to know I was such a mess.”

“Is that the real reason you storm off and sleep on the couch every night? Because you didn't want me to know about your nightmares?”

Sirius nodded and rubbed his whole palm at his eye and cheek and, damn it, just seeing that made Remus' own tears finally escape. He got up and circled around the small table. He stood beside Sirius and rubbed a hand down the back of Sirius' head and then down Sirius' back, easing him forward. And Sirius buried his face into Remus' belly just as he was seized with terrible sobs. 

Remus held him, stroked him, and stood patiently for as long as it took. Though he tried to wipe his own silent tears away as quickly as he could, a few fell into Sirius' dark, black hair. He couldn't say that they were just nightmares, because he knew what absolute horror Sirius had been through, and knew even a small bit of that would be enough to drive anyone insane. He couldn't say that the nightmares would eventually go away, because none of this was in his control. But he could say, “I don't know how it felt to be in Azkaban, to be falsely accused of murdering three of your friends... but I know what it feels like to miss them. I know what a friend's betrayal feels like. I know what it's like to be helpless and angry and not be able to do a damn thing about it.” 

Sirius pawed at Remus' jumper, crying harder, coughing, snuffling, crying some more. 

“And I know what it's like to feel scared about what's going to happen to the little boy we held in our arms minutes after he was born. We promised his parents we'd love and protect him like he was our own. We couldn't do that back then... but maybe we can now.” Sirius' tears eased, quieted, and Remus leaned over, placing a strong kiss on the top of his head. “Come to bed with me tonight?” 

“But—”

“The nightmares are going to wake me up in the middle of the night anyway. And it'll be easier to hold you and pet you until they pass if you're already in my bed. I was getting pretty tired of sitting on the floor all night long.”

Sirius gave a bark of a laugh and wiped his face dry with another bit of Remus' jumper. “What about Number 12 though?” 

“Oh for the love of—” It took a moment for Remus to realize Sirius was joking. “Bad form, Padfoot!” he laughed. He pulled Sirius to his feet and kissed him. “But, for the record, I'll hold you all night, no matter where we are.”


End file.
